In early
summer now the world anew
Is fashioned by the south wind and the sun
And that dark sorcery which no man knows.
The greening woods, the orchards in full blow,
The bright marsh-marigolds by pasture streams,

5

And
hollyhocks along the garden wall—
The scene is like a gorgeous tapestry
Hung is some old gray castle by the sea,
Along whose corridors no footfall sounds,
And only fragrant winds with ghostly hands

10

Its
hallowed timeless reveries disturb.
And so within the summer’s pageantry
Along austere New England’s shadowed ways
Immortal calm of loveliness abides.